


The Girl Who Let The Doctor Die

by antivalentine



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s04e11 Turn Left, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-26
Updated: 2008-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antivalentine/pseuds/antivalentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everyone can be Donna, you know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Girl Who Let The Doctor Die

She happened to be blonde. Well, she didn't just happen to be blonde, it was a conscious decision involving monthly visits to the hairdressers; and come to that it wasn't entirely a conscious decision, more something she did because most of her female relations and friends did the same. She dieted for six months to get into this dress. To be completely honest she had lost about a stone too much. Her face had a strained, angular look which made her look older than her thirty-four years. Her arms were bony against the frothy meringue of her wedding dress, her hair poker straight, and she didn't say much, when she wasn't screaming.  
  
She loved Lance, because he loved her, and he was such a gentleman, not like most blokes. Lance had class. You wouldn't catch Lance eyeing up your sister or scratching his balls in front of the telly, not like the last one. He looked so great in a suit. And oh god, her maid of honour cooed, you two are going to make gorgeous babies. Gorgeous. She knew exactly how lucky she was, snagging Lance, and how jealous her friends were, and how happy she was going to be. Ideally, she'd have been married by thirty, but slipping in under thirty-five was good enough.  
  
And now she found herself running. A lot. Running and hiding and screaming or stuffing the tulle skirts in her mouth to stifle her screams. She found herself under fire from spinning stars, and curling up under the table at her reception screwed her eyes tight shut and whispered, 'Please stop, just stop, please wake up Alison wake up wake up wake UP.' But however hard she pinched herself, it didn't work. And then she thought, it'll pass, it's just an anxiety dream, perfectly normal, biggest day of your life tomorrow...   
  
And then something behind her exploded, which didn't give her time to analyse it any more.  
  


* * *

'You know why I chose you?' yelled Lance. 'Because you were the stupidest one I could find. Talk about dumb blonde. Do you have any idea how hard it was having to pretend to listen to you drone on about hair extensions and fake tan?'

The Doctor knew shock when he saw it -- the glazed, empty expression, the eyes that didn't quite see you. He knew it wasn't her fault, but he still wanted to shake her. Why are you letting him talk to you like that? Rose would never...

But that, after all, was why Lance had chosen her. Not because she was stupid, but because she thought she was. Someone or something had already crushed all the fight out of her. One of those everyday brutalities humans are so very good at.

* * *

She remembered all the spiders she'd ever screamed for her stepdad to come and squash for her. The ones she'd flushed down the plughole, the mindless terror as they ran away from the freezing torrents and the relief she felt when the water engulfed them. Karma, she thought, gazing dully at the giant blood-red queen. The water raining down on her, swirling muddily around the ruined froth of her skirts, was real and wet and bitter, bitter cold. Liquid ice. Her throat was raw, her teeth chattered.

At the last minute, instinct kicked in and she tried to run, but by that time the water was too high and the dress was dragging her down, down, for all her kicking and screaming, deeper into the biting Thames.

That's it then? she thought, disbelievingly. I'm not waking up? I'm _dying_?

She never thought about the Doctor. Some of them don't.


End file.
